“Magret! Good morning. Is the prince likely to still be in his rooms at this hour?”
“Good morning, Lara.” She sets a bone comb and long hair pins on the counter beside me and begins braiding her pale hair. “Which prince do you speak of?”
“Prince Ever, of course.”
Her antlers stiffen, and she frowns. “I have no idea, but if I were you, I would not dare visit his—”
“I need to speak to him. I’m going to check if he’s there,” I say, giving her waist a playful squeeze as I zip past.
“Lara!” she yells, her voice echoing off the damp stone walls.
“It’ll be fine,” I call as I flee into the passageway that connects all the little rooms where the castle staff live. “He won’t hurt me.” At least I hope he won’t.
I puff my way up staircase after winding staircase—from the dark and dingy to the grand and elaborate—and then dart through the majestic light-filled hallways of the royal wings, at intervals passing statuesque guards who ignore me, until I reach the gigantic double doors that lead to Ever’s rooms.
“Never,” I yell, pounding on the heavily patterned metal surface. “Let me in.”
The doors swing open, and I fall into the parlor to find three perfectly shaped fae mouths gaping at me in shock. Ever, Raff, and nasty Kian are sprawled over divans studying maps, ribbons of sweet, cloying smoke floating in the air above them.
Dressed in dark leather pants and lavishly embroidered doublets embellished with feathers and straps, a perfect example of the elegant bondage style the court favors, Kian and Raff appear ready for action. But Ever looks like he’s not long rolled out of bed, loose linen pants riding low on his hips and an almost-sheer shirt, the color of cobwebs, draped around his muscular bare chest.
Balor snores in the middle of the floor, and the mire fox picks over a tray of nuts and bright orange nasturtium flowers on a table by the window. The curtains are closed, the fire blazes, and the atmosphere is as closed and secretive as a clandestine meeting in the middle of the night. Except it’s daylight and nearly eleven o’clock.
Kian is the first to rouse himself from his stupor. “Oh, good morning, Lara,” he says in a patronizing voice. “What an extraordinary pleasure it is to see you in our prince’s chambers. How fortunate that we are all present to satisfy your wishes. Please advise us how we may be of assistance.”
“Well, you can help by shutting up, and—”
“Leave us.” A red scroll held suspended in front of him, Ever’s silver eyes drill right through to my soul.
“Must we?” complains Kian. “Just when something fun happens, you wish to throw us out. You’re such a bore of late, Everend, old friend.”
“I said leave us.” Ever’s words crack like thunder, jolting Raff and Kian—and even Balor—onto their feet.
With a terrifying screech, Spark flies through the air and lands on Balor’s back. The hunting hound rears up like a battle horse, and then takes off galloping around the room with Spark shrieking and clinging to wiry gray fur as she bounces along. For a long moment, we all watch with our mouths hanging open.
“Balor,” yells Ever. “Get here.”
Barking wildly, Balor ignores the order and ducks under the bed, taking the mire fox with him. Over everyone else’s raucous laughter, Ever calls the dog in a harsh voice, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Maybe he’s not completely humorless after all.
Raff reaches under the bed and retrieves Spark who comes out blinking contritely, then snuggles into his master’s arms. “You little terror. I shall have to chain you to Elowen in the kitchens if you can’t control yourself, and then you’ll miss out on visiting the glass blowers. They’re making salamander necklaces from amber stones and orange maple leaves today. Perhaps now, you won’t get one of your own.”
Sparks chirps and shakes her head, tugging Raff’s collar.
“Well, learn to behave if you want special treats. Come, Kian, let us leave Ever and Lara to their business.” As Raff passes close by, he smiles warmly, “Lara, with all the drama, I haven’t had a chance to greet you properly.” His voice dips low, and he whispers, “Take care. His mood this morning is mercurial at best. Check the sky.”
I give him a quick grin and a teasing curtsy.
Wearing a smirk I’d like to smack off his sharp-boned face, Kian struts past and follows Raff through the exit.
I stride over to the window, the heels of my boots clacking in the silence, and pull one side of the heavy drapes open, peering out. Black clouds hover above the distant Dún Mountains, and right in front of me on the turreted balcony balustrade, seven órga falcons perch, preening their silver and gold feathers. There’s not a trace of blue left in the sky.
“When I woke up, the day was fine,” I state.
“And your point is?” He regards me coolly through a mess of golden hair, the tips of his ears peeking out and smudges of ink staining one sharp cheekbone.
I take a seat on the couch opposite, shoving papers onto the floor. “You were obviously in a good mood earlier and now you’re not.”
“What of it?”
“Well, what made you happy?”
The large garnet in his ring glows like dark wine as he taps his chin before answering. “Hmm. Let me think. Earlier, you were not here. And now you are. Could your arrival have spoiled the atmosphere?”
I ignore his jibe. “I’m not going to give you the king back if that’s what you’re hinting at by dumping a hnefetafl board in my room.”
“If I wanted my king back, Lara, the set I gave you would have included one. You humans truly are dimwitted.”
“Interesting opinion when I bet you don’t even know why you gifted the game to me.” Neither do I, but I’m very keen to hear his theories on the matter.
The air vibrates, the metallic tang of an impending storm stinging my nose as tiny hairs rise along my arms.
I smirk at the fluttering curtains. “It’s so easy to tell when I’ve hit a nerve. Your power is also your weakness. Does the fact that you can’t fully control it make you smarter or dumber than me?”
A sudden smile curves his lips. “Oh, shut up and have something to eat. I tire of arguing with you, mortal.”
He throws a bunch of grapes at me and then sprawls languidly against the couch.
I catch them and ask, “Back to name-calling again, are we?” Dark juice bursts over my tongue as I pop grapes into my mouth before laying the remainder next to his hnefatafl pieces on the low table between us.
Picking one of the men up, I ask, “Why were the pieces you played with last night pointed on top and mine flat?”
His smile is crooked and surprisingly boyish. “I was the attacker. We use pointy things to maim or breech entrances.”
My whole body flushes hot. “Oh, of course. Guess I’m proving your idea that humans are dimwitted with that question, aren’t I?”
He shrugs, then lays his palms open at chest height, raising them slowly. Suddenly, all the board pieces lift into the air and float around my head, zipping away each time I reach for one.
At the edges of the room, a sword hilt, a set of silver goblets, a dagger, and an unraveled scroll surf the air currents while Ever watches me intently.